Halo: Struggle
by Max Jenkins
Summary: After the Human-Covenant war, there were many matters to attend to, one of these was the Planet Paris IV, it was presumed glassed but it's fate is unknown. Spartan Gold team are deployed to a investigate why exactly the planet has gone dark, as events unfold they find that they are being drawn into a conflict that is decades old, a conflict that could change everything.
1. Prologue-Part I

"Brace, Brace, Brace!"

"This is Captain Hingman, all personnel to your action stations, prepare for boarding parties, non-essential personnel report to bulkhead Q." The UNSC John D. Edwards was in 16th fleet, stationed in the Paris system, over the planet Paris IV. The covenant had found the planet through a human cargo ship, which was captured by the Kig-Yar. The current engagement was between the John D. Edwards and Aegis Fate and a CCS-Class Covenant Battle Cruiser. Seraphs started pouring out of the Cruisers hangar bays and the Aegis Fate deployed Longsword fighters to intercept.

"This is Uniform-One, Uniform-Actual, how are we on COMMs?" The squadron leader asked.

"Uniform-One, this is Uniform-Actual. We read you 5 by 5. Seraphs coming in at a 33 degree angle at your 3 o'clock in your plain of vision. Move to intercept them and protect the frigate, our point-defense system needs time to cool down after the last heat." The voice over the radio said.

"Yes sir. Uniform-Six and Seven, take up my flank. The rest of you get into offensive position inverted trident, based on our formation."

"Yes sir." They all responded. The Seraphs moved in on full combat power, spewing guided plasma towards the Longsword interceptors.

_Meanwhile, in the UNSC John D. Edwards (known as the JDE)…_

"Kane." The captain said.

"Sir?" an A.I said appearing at the Holo-pedestal next to the tactical screen.

"How are things planet side?" He said eying the screen and his tac-pad. The ship rumbled from a stray plasma burst.

"Sir, New Thames is under siege and seems to be the only place of interest right now; I cannot pinpoint their LZ at this time as the bastards are jamming my sensors." Kane said.

"What do we have down there right now?" He asked.

"The only things I'm picking up in the area are elements from the 83rd Armored and the 543rd Infantry; they are currently holed up in the financial district in a Sinovet building." Kane reported, "They're getting their asses handed to them."

"Patch me through to them." The captain said.

"I'll try, but I can't guarantee a connection, and if I get one, it won't last long." Kane said, already searching for a signal.

"I don't care, damn it!" He said in a raised voice.

"Aye sir." He said.

"Aha, patching you through to acting C.O, SSgt. Banks."

"Sir?" He asked as he fired his SMG.

"Give me a sit-rep, SSgt." The captain commanded.

"Sir, covenant forces are sieging us and are using shock and awe tactics. They are hitting us in waves. We have the 83rd armored down here; all that is left is two Warthogs and three Cobras. The Covenant has been sending in waves of wraiths and seraphs. We are holed up in the regional Sinovet HQ; our objective was to get rid of a vehicle pool just outside the city, in Trinity Park system. Some reinforcements would be greatly appreciated, we are under heavy-"

"Connection lost skipper, your orders?" Kane inquired.

"Prep the 34th Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Platoon; we're going to drop them in to support the 543rd so they have support in the following waves. Then we can drive this damned cruiser out of the planet's atmosphere and buy time for the evacuation." The captain said.

"Aye, skipper." He said and disappeared. His voice rambled into the ships P.A system next, "34th ODST Platoon, report to the drop bay, you have 2 minutes until we drop you."

"Let's go ODST's; we're dropping into that crock of shit, so let's hurry the fuck up!" Major Edmondson "Ed" Randolph screamed. He was busting their balls for a good reason, from what he could tell, if the 83rd armored are down there and suffering losses means that they are probably against wraiths or worse.

"I want three teams of two with rocket launchers and demolition packs. The rest of you pack mid-range weapons, a side-arm, and some frag grenades." He yelled as the all the ODSTs scrambled for their jump-packs and equipment. The emergency Klaxons started blaring, "ONE MINTUE TO DROP." An automated voice warned, and the pods would launch without them if they were not there. That would be a huge waste of resources and money. Everyone put their weapons in their respective slots in their SOIEV pods. Major Randolph had his pod set to leave two seconds before anyone else, keeping in the tradition that officers should lead, not follow. They all got into their pods and waited for the bay doors to open. The major closed his eyes and mouthed,_ "…Three…Two…One."_ He then felt a jolt, he disconnected from the ship and was in zero-gee for a second, then another, and harder jolt when his thruster kicked in. Two seconds later, his Platoon of ODSTs was behind him, on their way to the surface of Paris IV.

"Pods are away Captain Garcia. Your orders?" Lt. Weismann, who was working the COMMs station asked.

"Deploy two Hawks to New Thames; have them provide close air support for the 34th Platoon of ODSTs, 543rd Infantry, and the remnants of the 83rd Armored." Once they are away, I want us lined up next to the _Aegis Fate_. Also, open up a COMM-link with Captain Hingman. Patch it through to my personal channel."

"Yes sir, Hawks are on their way down and I'm hailing the _Aegis Fate_." The Lt. said.

"Captain James Garcia, this is Captain Bruce Hingman. What is it?" The captain's baritone voice asked.

"Before we come into contact with that cruiser, I have an idea. You go 'down', relative to our current position and I will get the cruiser's attention. I will fire a MAC round into her bow and launch half of my Archer missiles at her mid-section. Then, After my MAC round hits, you come 'up' and fire into the bottom of the cruiser, for a reference point, use the Gravity Lift on the bottom, focus your MAC there and launch your missiles in the same spot. In theory, the two MAC rounds should take down the shields. Leaving the Archer missiles to breach and mangle her hull, since you would launch your missiles at the 'bottom' of the cruiser amidships, their bridge should be destroyed and useless, rendering the whole cruiser useless."

"In theory? What if we don't do this?" Captain Hingman asked. Looking to his side to accept a packet of info from an ensign.

"That Cruiser has enough firepower to take us both out, plus, there is the second cruiser which engaged in surface activity." James said.

"Alright, how long does the A.I say until we meet up with it again?" Bruce asked.

"30 minutes, give or take ten, due to satellite debris." He replied.

"Alright, I'll start maneuvering into position. I will go partially dark to hide myself a little better. _Aegis Fate_ out." The radio connection clicked and James closed the connection. He grabbed his tac-pad, "Kane, get me some more info on the surface activity of that cruiser and keep me updated on the cruiser that is on the other side of the planet."

"Aye, Aye, skipper, I'll keep my ears open." He said, not bothering to project himself and getting to work on his assigned task.

_MEANWHILE, IN NEW THAMES…_

The 543rd Infantry were doing a good job of keeping the Covenant Elites out of the building, but their heavy hitters, the Cobra's, we're a block away, launching artillery shells at the oncoming waves of Ghosts and Wraiths. While the 'Hogs were keeping suicide Grunts and Jackals off the Cobra's. There were seraphs coming in too, but they have declined in numbers, with huge gaps in their strafing of about ten minutes. They knew they were getting support, but not what kind of support, all they knew was that they needed it soon.

The ODSTs hit the ground and their hatches popped; they quickly sprang from their seats, got their gear, and secured the area. "Alright," Major Randolph said, getting the battalion's attention, "1st squad you're on point, we need to head to kilometers North East along this boulevard here, and we'll link up with the 543rd through the back of the Sinovet building. Let's move." He said, putting his helmet on, hiding his face from the world behind the black visor. They stalked down the cluttered streets; it was now that they could see how much has happened to New Thames. There were buildings on fire and rubble in the streets, cars with their doors open and still running, and some flipped over or on fire. They all stopped when the first Squad leader held up his fist, which meant stop. The Major ran up and whispered into his ear, "Why are we stopped?"

"Covenant turret emplacement, looks like there are two elites and twelve grunts, with a third elite on the plasma turret." He said.

The Major nodded and opened up a link to the _John D. Edwards_, "JDE, this Major Randolph, requesting an aerial strike on a turret emplacement."

"Acknowledged Major, we have to two Hawk gunships en route to your position, ETA five minutes, recommend you hold until they clear the area out." A radioman said.

"Roger JDE, target will be marked with a blue waypoint." He said and closed the channel. He turned to the battalion and updated them in a whisper, "Everyone hold your position, we have Close Air Support inbound to take care of that emplacement and cover us for as long as they can."

"How long 'till CAS gets here, sir?" A voice called out.

"Five mikes." He replied.

After three minutes, a few of the greenhorns on the team were fidgeting now; they hated having to wait until the Hawks got there. After a couple seconds, a private dropped his weapon.

Everyone froze.

A corporal went to the corner to look and see if the turret had been alerted, he leaned over and the turret greeted with a hail of plasma fire, they were now pinned down, and they opened fire on the emplacement. "Shit." The Major said and re-opened the link with the radioman, "JDE, we've been engaged, tell your Hawks to hurry the hell up!"

"Roger, Major." He said and cut the channel and opened one with the pilots, "The ODSTs have been engaged, pick up the pace."

"This is Razor Back-1, we acknowledge. Out." The pilot said and closed the channel. He increased the throttle and maxed out the craft's engines.

"Where the hell is that support?" An ODST screamed over the battle as he blind-fired around the corner. A plasma bolt hit the ODST next to him and he fell to the ground. He emptied his clip on the enemy emplacement and managed two kills. Suddenly, the whir of engines was head and the two Hawks roared overhead and opened fire onto the emplacement. The depleted uranium rounds tore into the ground and demolished the emplacement with two quick burps of fire and lead.

"This Razor-Back-1 and 2. We are here to provide CAS support. Mark a target with a blue waypoint and we'll deal with it." The pilot said, "Let's Give'em hell."

"Alright Razor-Back, we're going to link up with the 543rd Infantry and what's left of the 83rd Armored." The major replied.

"Roger, Major. Standing by." He cut the channel. They moved forward to the Sinovet building with very little resistance. They ran into a rocket team that was covering the back entrance.

The man nodded and said, "Glad you're here sir, we are in the middle of waves right now, you'll need to see SSgt. Banks, and he's in the front, trying to unjam a turret."

"Thanks soldier, I want 4th Squad to stay with the rocket team and over the back, and I want Fire team Bravo from 2nd Squad to go to the roof and set up a sniping position. The rest of you on me, we are going to the front of the building."

They all responded, "Sir, yes sir!" and jumped to their tasks. The Major led them through the building to the front, "Alright, take defensive positions against the wall and Jersey Barriers outside, "I need to go talk to the Staff Sargent, so play nice please." He said as he went off to find the SSgt. He soon found him re-assembling a mounted machine gun turret. He looked at a corporal, "Take this back to your fire team and put it in a position to where you have a good view of the left flank, and we have the right flank covered with the other one."

"Yes sir." She said and ran off to her Fire team.

"Staff Sargent, give me a sit-rep." Major Randolph ordered as he took off his helmet to wipe his face of sweat.

"Well sir, the covies have been trying to move through this street and we have been holding them here so the rest of the civilians can evacuate out of the city, with those Hawks here, I think-" He was interrupted by a soldier outside, "INCOMING! BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!"

Just as soon as they braced, a plasma mortar shot hit the building and shook the earth about. Rubble fell to the streets below, "You can tell me when we're done with them, let's go." The Major said, putting his helmet back on.


	2. Prologue-Part II

_[A/N: Thanks everyone for the views and reviews, they highly encourage me to write more. I also have no idea how long this will be. Anyways, here is chapter two. Enjoy your stay!]_

Gunfire echoed through the streets as the ODSTs fired upon the ranks of covenant troops. There were many more troops this time, at least more than before, according to SSgt. Banks. There were three Wraith tanks in the back of the plaza, and Grunts were charging the humans that were holed up in the building. They were just cannon fodder so the Elites in the back could set up deployable covers and plasma mortars. Things were going downhill faster than Harrison's presidency. Major Randolph, sensing the descent of the situation put a marker on the Covenant tanks. The Hawks moved over to engage the Wraiths. They burped out three bursts of fire on the Grunts charging, which caused them to turn around and flee, only to be shot by the Elites for cowardice. Therefore, they turned back around, primed plasma grenades in each hand, and charged the building in a last ditch attempt. The ODSTs then rose from their cover put a blanket of fire on the suicidal Grunts so their hides would be safe. They fell and died, dropping their grenades, they set off a chain reaction and it was like a blue mini-sun that just erupted into the middle of the street, the heat from all the plasma melted the cars around it and scorched the metal, grooved roadway below and it glowed white-hot.

The Hawks then turned their attention on the Wraiths, launching a volley of Argent-V missiles at them, the Wraiths blew sky-high and the ODSTs cheered. One was standing up, whooping and hollering when a Jackal sniper exploded his head into a bloody spray of skull and brain-matter. The snipers on top of the building then opened fire onto the streets below. The anti-materiel bullets tore into the Covenant below. The snipers spent their magazines and rolled over behind an AC unit as Hunters leveled their canons and launched fuel rod shots at the roof of the Sinovet building.

"We're FUBAR if we don't deal with those Wraiths and Hunters." Randolph muttered to himself. He opened up a COMM-link with the rocket team he posted out back, "We need you in the front, now. We've got Hunters _and_ Wraiths." He waited for a response.

The sound of a rocket whooshed and the ODST responded, "Roger."

The Major then put a blue waypoint on the Wraiths that seemed to be constantly appearing. The Hawks turned launched their Argent-V missiles. They tore into the Wraiths and they exploded into a blue fiery oblivion. The Hawks turned to take out the Hunters but then, two Elite Ultra's with plasma launchers locked onto the Hawks and the pilots evaded most of the shots, but a grenade hit an engine on one of the gunships and the first Hawk hit the ground, hard. Dust and building sediment burst into the air, obscuring the plaza in an eerie fog. The Fire team on the left-flank machine gun moved over to the edge of the plaza edge to check if the pilot was okay. They found him in the cockpit, a piece of metal rebar in his chest, pinning him to the seat.

They pulled back to the machine gun and laid down a blanket of cross fire with the machine gun on the right-flank, in an effort to push the waves of grunts back. They were going to run out of ammo at this rate. That was not unlike the tactics observed by Covenant ground forces though.

The Major heard the second pilot over the Tac-Com, "I'm on Bingo-fuel, and I'm bugging out, good luck Major." He cursed under his breath and acknowledged the pilot, "Roger Razor-Back 2, god speed." The Hawk turned and glided out of the combat zone. Then, the Covenant changed tactics; they started sending in brutes with brute shots, led by war chieftains with ornate fuel rod canons. They fired their grenades into the building, taking out his already weary troops. Another transmission came over the bandwidth…it was a global broadcast.

"Covenant ships are jumping in, we can't hold them, our attack on the Cruiser worked, but it seems that we angered their fleet. I am sending pelican drop ships in for a hot pick-up. We lost Paris IV. Hingman out."

"Alright people, pelican drop ships are inbound, we have to hold our own until pick-up, roger?" He transmitted.

"Roger." The ODSTs responded.

After two more minutes of fighting, a Covenant Corvette slipped in atmosphere and started lobbing guided energy at tall skyscrapers, knocking debris onto the roads to cause more damage. The Major needed the pelicans now.

As if his prayers were answerd, the pelicans thundered overhead and dropped its bay doors; the crew chief motioned them to get their asses aboard. "Alright everyone, our ride is here; let's get the hell outta here!" All the ODSTs and troopers that were left boarded and the crews from the remaining Cobra artillery tanks ran on board as well. The ship, pregnant with soldiers, took off and flew to the _John D. Edwards_ on full combat power. Once they got to the edge of the atmosphere, the pilot announced vacuüm protocols and everyone strapped in and the bay door shut, closing off the view of the Planet of Paris IV, which was about to exist no more.

The pelican landed in the hanger bay and the ODSTs and troopers stumbled out, some heading to the med-bay, some heading to their bunks. The Major went to the Captain for his debrief. He passed by Naval Personnel who rushed to their slip-space stations and non-essential personnel prepare for cryo-sleep. He arrived at the bridge and stopped.

"Permission to enter the bridge, sir?" He asked.

"Granted." He said. The bridge crew was tapping away at their controls, putting in vectors and such.

"How many?" The Major asked.

"…three million died or will die on the surface; transports took away about 35 percent of the planets population." He said.

"Why can't we go back?" The Major asked.

"We would be dead, and we have to tell Earth about this fleet." The captain said gravely. "Do you think I like this?" He asked.

"No sir." The Major responded. He backed down. The captain turned towards the NAV station, "You're dismissed major, report to cryo."

"Yes sir." He said and walked away and was frozen into sleep.

"Ready for jump, sir." Kane reported.

"Alright then, take us out Lieutenant."

"Sir." The NAV officer reported and with that, they slipped away from the planet, a ghost to normal space.


	3. Prolouge-Part III

_"One may know how to gain a victory, and know not how to use it."_

_-Pedro Calderon de la Barca_

They thought they were in the clear; they came out of the random jump and found them selves surrounded by 18 CCS-class cruisers. "Damn, they got here before us."

Kane popped up, "Sir, incoming transmission: Playing now."

An Elite Fleet master appeared on the ship's COMM station, the captain walked over to observe the message. The Elites mandibles opened as he spoke in Sangheili.

"Kane."

"Aye, captain." He said and translated the message.

"RAWWRRR!" He growled, "Humans, power your engines down and let us board you. If you refuse, we will burn you into nothing, you have thirty seconds to reply." The captain gritted his teeth, "No way you split-jaw bastard.

He looked to his crew, they knew what was coming, but if the Covenant boarded, they would try to find the location of Earth. "Re-enact Cole-Protocol, sweep systems. Kane, that means you too, I want you to get me firing solutions to destroy as many ships as possible. Then, in the event that we are boarded, set self-destruct timer for ten minutes. After this, if they just get our hull integrity to 1 percent, delete yourself, confirmation order: Kilo-Six-Hotel."

"…Done sir, it's been an honor sir." Kane said.

"Okay," he said and went on the ship-wide PA, "Everyone to your battle stations, let's give'em hell."

"Kane," The captain said.

"Yes sir?" Kane asked.

"Send them to hell." He said. With that, the MAC fired, and all the Archer missiles launched, 690 missiles burrowed through space and found their targets, but no cigar. The ship shuddered, they hit the engine room.

"Sir, FTL reactors is sky rocketing!" Kane said.

The captain looked at his bridge crew, and in turn, they looked at him. They all nodded and saluted him, he crisply returned it.

"Kane, ram the covenant flagship, and detonate the FTL reactor."

"Yes sir, time to impact, 53 seconds." Kane informed. The captain nodded, and got on the intercom, one last time.

"Attention UNSC John D. Edwards, I think you know as well as I do that we are not going to make it out of this. You were the best crew I could ask for, the best crew anyone could ask for. We might be remembered as heroes, we might be forgotten in the coming years. Nevertheless, I want you all to know this, we stood our ground we went and stuck out our necks for humanity, and now the gag is up. We fought until our ship could fight no more, her wings are clipped, and her fists of iron obliterated. I want you all to know though, that in our darkest hour, we find our true selves, and that amidst the war and our impending death, we find who we really are. I want you all to look at the man next to you thank him, and I will see you all on the other side. Goodbye." The ship crashed into the Covenant flagship and erupted into a new star enveloping the entire fleet, leaving nothing but dust and debris, the souls of many faded into the charred remains of their ships, nothing but ash.

Aboard Covenant CAS carrier: Trifled Affairs…

There was a silence on the bridge. The Shipmaster was awaiting news from the expeditionary fleet he had ordered to board the human Frigate, in hopes that they would get some information on planetary locations. If they were to fail at this, they were to destroy it. He looked about the bridge; it was a big purple room with Holo-screens and big aqua windows, with a big holographic planet in the middle. Around the circumference of the platform was an entrenchment around both sides, with grunt Deacons tapping away at their stations with their large, meaty claws, it looked similar to that of the Corvette that was infiltrated by some NOBLE demons or some such Humans during the glassing of their military strong hold, Reach.

"Shipmaster 'Refumee, the human ship has been eliminated. However, our expeditionary fleet has been destroyed." A COMMs officer on one of the Holo-screens reported.

"Unfortunate." 'Refumee replied.

"But Shipmaster, what of our brothers?" He inquired.

"They died a glorious and honorable death in the pursuit of the Great Journey; of this you can be assured. Prepare the vessel for a transition, we are going back to the Human's wretched system of Paris, we are returning to the Human scum of 'Paris IV'." He said, turning around and walking out of the room, to his private chambers so he may meditate to the Gods in peace.

The purple doors seethed apart and closed, the doors so smooth that the groove between the doors was unseen by the naked eye. Shipmaster Xanthan 'Refumee sat down in the middle of the atrium he was in. It was simulated to look like the Sangheili home world, Sanghelios. He began to pray the writ of the union:

"All who walk the blessed path will find salvation, even in death. Out of darkness, these blades will light our way. Glory and honor guide our ascension. On the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons. The true devotee honors our name with actions, not words. Victory is secured not from the throne, but from the frontlines. With this sacrament of blood we journey into the divine beyond."

He was about to recite the creed of the shipmasters, when someone put a hand on his shoulder. It was their accompanying Prophet, who had been sent to oversee the fate of Paris IV. It was not to be glassed, just…to be drained of human life. The hand on his shoulder belonged to the Prophet of Contrition.


	4. Broken at the Core

TIMESTAMP: JUNE 17, 2553-1627 HOURS, STANDARD MILITARY TIME, SOL SYSTEM

"Now here this, now here this, prep for slip-space deceleration in 5…4…3…2…1…decelerating."

The PA system onboard the UNSC Sovereign lingered for a moment after then snapped off. The Marathon-class cruiser had just arrived in the Sol system, it was due to reach Mars for a refit, this mainly included receiving a new AI and engine maintenance as it needed it's engine cores repaired, they were wore out and needed to be replaced due to the massive amount of strain and running time at max capacity.

The atmosphere on the bridge was a calm and cool collectiveness.

"Captain Henderson, approaching Reyes-Mclees shipyard. ETA seven mikes." One of the ships helmsmen called out.

"Adjust heading to 247 degrees, prep ship docking procedure. Once that is done, relieve our destroyer escorts and their commanders from having to stay with us, they have no need to remain with us." Captain James Henderson said standing up, smoothing out his NWU. He took a sip from his Earl Grey tea, in his 'Captain of the Year' mug, which he received from his bridge crew on his birthday. That day he turned 45, he already looked 60. He looked out of a viewport on his left; he got up and strolled over to it. He looked to the destroyer that was on their left flank, it veered upwards and left, at least upwards and left from the captain's point of view, space is such a complicated thing.

He felt a large hand place itself on his shoulder; he turned and was greeted by a tall ensign, with a tac-pad in his hands. He pointed to a line of text, "Captain, this is the most recent readout form the engine core."

"I see, it seems grave, can we manage until we dock to shut them down?" Henderson asked.

"I have no idea sir, they are on their literal last cycle before our safety measures shut them down."

"Get down to engineering and tell them to be ready for any trouble and to have their fingers on the kill-switch if the engines start flaring." Henderson ordered, "We'll cause catastrophic damage at this distance from the shipyards."

"Aye sir, I'll head down straightawa-" The ensign was stopped mid syllable when the ship rumbled and the lights went out and dim red lights came on.

"Captain!" An officer called, it was the engineering console from which the cry came. "Ensign, get to engineering, help them out if you can!" The captain turned his attention to the station manager and ran over. As the ensign bolted out of the bridge, feet thumping as he sprinted down to the engineering room. "Collins, report." Henderson barked when he arrived.

"Sir, the ship's engines failed, the core fractured and the ship sustained medium damage in aft decks G through T, atmospheric breaches in deck L has completely compromised it, the deck was a storage room, luckily, so no casualties to report, but reports are still coming in and we do have some minor injuries." The officer replied, "What are your orders, captain?"

"Save power and send all the casualty reports to my personal tac-pad." Henderson answered.

"Aye, sir." The officer said, tapping commands into his keyboard. The captain walked over to the tactical battle information screen at the front of his ship. He looked at the screen, well, he looked through it, since it was glass and the power was running minimally. He strolled over to the COMMs and gave the operator an order, "Contact the nearest UNSC-Rescue dispatch center, and activate our distress signal on the regular bandwidth and channels."

"Aye, skipper." He said, talking into his headset. After a few minutes of waiting, they got a response. The Special Forces department out of NAV/SPEC/WEP-3 had sent two Rescue and Recovery recue cutters. They were Corvette-class ships that were adorned in white paint and with the inherited and iconic red and blue 'racing stripe' that the ancient country of the United States used on their Coast Guard vessels; it was no surprise that they had this paint scheme. Because, they based most of their military of off the United States anyway.

"This is the UNSC rescue cutter Widow and the Repertoire, we are moving to your top and we are having the Repertoire move aft and couple with your aft engine walls, so make sure those are cooled and off. Do that and we can essentially tug you into the shipyards, acknowledge?" A voice said over the radio.

"Copy Widow, we are dead in the vacuum here, the help is much appreciated. Sovereign is also low on electricity, so we can't help you in assisting us." The COMMs officer said.

"Roger." The Guardsman's COMMs officer on the ship replied. The Widow proceeded to move to the top of the cruiser, with the other COG ship grappled over to and attached itself to the back of the ship, so the cruiser could be turned, so the Repertoire was an impromptu rudder, if you would.

"Procedure will take two and a half hours at best, due to the fact of how fragile you are and how slow we need to go so we don't tear you apart from aft to amidships. How copy?" The rescue cutter sent out.

"Copy all, Widow. You are clear to dock, also, tell command to send our orders through you, as our long range equipment was fried when our engine destabilized." The officer responded.

"Roger, wilco." The cutter responded. They engaged their engine thrust at three percent capacity and worked their way up to 10 percent, advancing one percent per five minutes.

The crew of the UNSC Sovereign felt the ship lurch forward as the cutters finally got the cruiser to budge when they worked up their engines. The X.O remained on the bridge while the C.O, Lieutenant Commander Matthew Johannes boarded a pelican, to go ahead to the Reyes-Mclees Shipyard, to have them make ready to receive the Sovereign in a emergency state.

MEANWHILE…

TIMESTAMP: JUNE 17, 2553-1700 HOURS, STANDARD MILITARY TIME, DETROIT CITY, UNITED REPUBLIC OF NORTH AMERICA (URNA)

SPARTAN Gold team had been sent to Detroit, of all places, to catch some R&R. It was a very, very different place than its former self in the ancient years of the 2000's. This was due to the Jovian Moons Campaign. In the months of March through June 2160, The Jovian Moons campaign began due to Jovian secessionist attacks on United Nations Colonial Advisers on the moon Io. This led to three months of fighting between United Nations and Jovian "Frieden" forces. Though this was not the first armed conflict in our Sol System, it was easily one of the bloodiest, and is generally considered the spark of increased friction and militarization that followed. The Jovian Moons campaign escalated tensions, as Earth's National governments, many of which sponsored colonies within the system, began fighting proxy wars off-planet. As these proxy wars continued, tensions on Earth mounted, leading to a number of armed conflicts on Earth itself, such as the Rain Forest Wars. (However, we are not here for a history lesson…)

Due to this, many arms were needed, and due to Detroit's history and old Production plant dubbed 'The Rouge' which was a prime spot to start production on casting metal parts and manufacturing parts for vehicles and ships and aircraft. The money flow due to all the workers flooding in and needing homes was massive, and the once skeletal city became equals with those like New York City and Tokyo, in terms of Size and Technological advancement. The Spartans however, decided to take up residence, at least for the moment, in the Renaissance Center at the hotel there. They were marveling at the views across the river of the city of Windsor. The sun shining overhead, the team leader was not marveling…he was stuck in the other room talking to the Master Chief and Blue Team about their teams being mushed up into one squad. They were not having any problems, well…no problems except the one that got the two teams standing before the JAG's of the UNSC, stuck with charges at a court-martial.


End file.
